I met his gaze, and again, his face was like a beautiful weapon. He leaned over me, his face painted with the stage makeup. He leaned in, as if he'd kiss me, and some part of me that was still sane knew that if he kissed me, it would be bad.

I smelled Jean-Claude's cologne, and the scent of Richard's neck. Jean-Claude had opened the marks wider. It made me startle, and take a step back, away from the blond.

I reached backward, and Jean-Claude took my hand. The touch of my master, and I was proof against the pale-eyed blond.

He smiled, an arrogant curl of lips. The smile said it all: I almost had you. He was right. He had almost had me. And still there was a breathing pres­ence of power out there in the theatre, flowing over the crowd, and that power wasn't the blond in front of us. There was still something even more powerful waiting in the wings. Something even more powerful that we'd in­vited to our town. Sweet Mary, Mother of God, what had we done?

46

THE BLOND FLUNG himself over our heads, and out into the air. The air was full of vampires. They had flown up and over the audience, and in that instant the vampire let them go. He released his hold on the audience and they were left gasping, shrieking. Not at the fact that their minds had been messed about with, because they didn't know that, but at the vampires sud­denly appearing above them like magic.

Jean-Claude helped me back to my seat. I needed the help; my knees were shaky. I looked around at all of us, and only the vampires hid their fear. The rest of us were wide-eyed and a little pale.

I leaned into Jean-Claude and whispered, "Did they do that every show?"

He shook his head, and spoke mind-to-mind. Yeah, maybe some of the other masters could overhear us, but we knew for dead certain they'd hear us whisper. "He bespelled the humans and some of the wereanimals, but he did not try for the vampires. He left them alone."

"Why now," I whispered, "why tonight?"

Of course, he didn't know. That didn't make me feel any better, strangely.

Claudia asked permission to check on the other guards. I gave it. I, like Claudia, wanted to see for sure that the other guards were up and running.

Lisandro was cursing very softly under his breath. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," over and over, like he said it with every breath.

He'd taken the words right out of my mouth.

The vampires danced on the air, at least a dozen of them. They defied gravity, and made it look effortless. It was beautiful, but I couldn't enjoy it. I was too scared.

The blond hovered in front of our box for a moment. He blew me a kiss. I smiled sweetly and gave him a one-fingered salute. He laughed, and flew away.

Other vampires flew low over the crowd, and they blew kisses at other women and other men. There were three or four women among them. It was sort of the reverse of most ballet companies, where there seemed to be more women than men.

The drapes at the back of our box opened, and it was Auggie. I got a glimpse of Pierce and Octavius on the other side of the curtain with Wicked and Truth. Auggie didn't look any happier than I felt.

He leaned over us, smiling, pretending he'd just come to say hi. "He did not do this in Chicago."

"Who didn't? Who's doing this?" I asked.

"Merlin," Auggie said, "troupe leader, dance master. The blond is Adonis. He used to be Belle's. Now he belongs to Merlin."

I felt that power breathing back on the air, like the smell of smoke drift­ing through the forest, when you don't know yet from which direction the flames will come, but you know they're on the way.

Auggie touched my bare shoulder. His power slid over my skin like a fall of silk. He offered his hand to Jean-Claude. "You rolled me; use it now."

Jean-Claude took his hand. To a casual viewer, they were shaking hands. Auggie's hand tensed on my bare shoulder, touching the edge of scars where a vamp had once worried at my collarbone like a dog with a rat. I wasn't en­tirely sure what Auggie meant for us to do. But Jean-Claude was sure, and you only need one driver on the metaphysical bus. Jean-Claude opened the marks between him and me, opened them wide. If it had been me, I couldn't have opened them that wide without involving at least Richard, but Jean-Claude had centuries of control under his belt. He used his free hand to touch my arm, and that was all we needed.

It was as if he pulled aside a curtain, a thick, velvet curtain. I could al­most feel it sliding through my body, and then my necromancy flowed out from me like a chill wind. His power met mine, and the cold grew. But not the cold that blankets and coats would cure. This was the cold of the grave, spilled down our skins. Jean-Claude took that cold power and poured it down our hands and into Auggie. His power burst over Auggie, sudden enough that he had to close his eyes. His power was warmer than Jean-Claude's, warmer than my necromancy. He tasted not just of vampire, but of lion. More than any vampire I'd ever touched, he was also his beast. In­teresting.

His cold warm power rose up, then spilled down his body to meet ours. It was a rush of power that tightened my throat, clenched my hand tight on Jean-Claude's. Only feasting on Auggie earlier let me know how small this power rush was compared to what we could do with him.

My lion tried to rise to roll his power. It was Auggie who soothed the lion, like a hand to stroke her quiet. But his power, far into me, found something else to rise. The ardeur started to flare, and it was Jean-Claude who rode it down, dampened those fires. He took the power, firm and hard, in his hand,

the way he could suddenly take charge during lovemaking. You go from it being a team sport, to suddenly having him on top, and holding you still, so he can do exactly what he wants, in exactly the way he wants it, giving you more pleasure than you could have found on your own. He rode the power, and Auggie and I were just along for the ride.

The audience below us was oohing, aahing, giving little fake screams. It sounded like a crowd at a fireworks display, except this display was whirling, floating, diving bodies. I watched the dancers distantly. Their beauty no longer moved me. The power that Jean-Claude was building was the only thing that truly touched me.

But I heard the rustling of birds again; that got through the power haze. Merlin was about to pour power over the crowd again. He was going to hide the dancers, so they would vanish again, poof.

Jean-Claude used our power like a slap, a feint to let the other vampire know to back off. I heard birds flutter, as if they'd been disturbed in their sleep. I whispered, "Birds," and I couldn't tell if I said it out loud or not.

"His animal to call," Auggie whispered back, and that was a voice in my head.

I felt the power pull back, as if this Merlin had taken a deep breath. I had a moment to think he'd gotten the message, but the next moment that breath came back at us. Power poured over the audience. I felt the humans snuff out like matches, one by one. Vampires are allowed group hypnotism, because group mind tricks aren't permanent. Once die power is over, no harm, no foul. But this felt different. This felt like something that would linger, and change what it had touched.

"What's he doing?" and that was aloud.

Jean-Claude's voice breathed through my mind, "He is going to try to take us."

"What is he doing to the crowd?"

"He's trying to take us, all of us," Auggie said, "and that's too much power for the humans."

"He'll own them," I said.

"No," Jean-Claude said, "they are ours." He didn't try to fight for the minds of the crowd; he went straight for the source of our problem. He used the power of the three of us to smash into that mind.