"Exactly."

With Lethe and his GPS as a guide, Burnout pulled up outside the front gate of Dunkelzahn's mansion in less than half an hour. He drove the car a half-kilometer down the road and into a tree-covered ditch. Then they made the hike back to the estate in silence and darkness.

"I think the security here is fairly tight," said Lethe. "Though I didn't worry about that sort of thing when I was here last."

"Can you give me specifics?"

"Yes," Lethe said. "There are watchers and elementals. The fence is laced with monowire and there are cameras and track-mounted drones with rotary cannons packing stun ammo. Maybe paranormal guard dogs of some sort, but nothing we can't handle."

"How do you know all this?"

"When I was here last, I possessed a member of security so that I could speak with Nadja Daviar. I read all that from his mind."

Burnout nodded. "What about the slitch? How's she rate on the danger scale."

Lethe's voice was cold. "She is not a threat. Nadja Daviar is a remarkable woman, and I would like for you to promise me that no harm will come to her."

"I can't promise that."

"I realize that circumstances might get out of your control, but I would like for you to promise that you will not take any action against her yourself. If she… if something happens to her during the course of events, that is unavoidable. However, I would like for you to take all the precautions available to you to ensure her safety."

Burnout nodded. "I've got no quarrel with her, and absolutely no reason to kill her. I won't kill her unless Mercury forces my hand. Or if she gets in the way."

"I guess that is all I can ask."

Just then, the sound of a big engine racing down the street toward them caught Burnout's attention. He crouched in the darkness of low-hanging pine branches across the street.

The Nightsky limo burned rubber as it turned at the entrance and accelerated down the circular drive. With a screech, the big car slammed to a halt by the door.

Burnout cranked up the gain on his low-light vision. He saw the figure of a young woman with the build of an elf. She had dark hair and wore a flowing red evening gown. She dashed up the broad steps to the house. Within seconds, she was inside, and the limo pulled away.

"Looks like someone's party didn't go quite as planned."

Lethe laughed. "Most likely Ryan has gotten word of our arrival, and has sent her to a place he believes is safe. Just as I knew he would."

"Excellent, now let's rock and roll. Give me the layout of this place."

33

Out of the darkness floated a pinpoint of white light. It swam toward him in an unsteady stream, finally reaching him and bringing pain. Ryan used his magic to channel the pain away, and the throbbing in the back of his head vanished.

He opened his eyes, and immediately shut them again.

White room. Mirrored walls.

With his eyes closed, he took a mental inventory of his body. The blow to the head wasn't the only thing his body had suffered. He had been beaten, though not severely, and his scalp itched where someone had ripped the fake datajacks off.

He was naked, he could tell that by the light breeze blowing over his bare skin from the air-conditioning and the chill of the metal chair on his back. His hands were cuffed behind his knees.

He turned his senses outward. Hearing told him that he shared the room with two others, both large, who stood behind him. Smell told him that one of the guards liked clove cigarettes and that the other wore an offensive amount of aftershave.

He forced his mind to focus, counting backward from ten. When he had centered himself, he slowly opened his eyes again.

The room was sterile white, nearly five meters wide, and half again as long. Directly in front of Ryan sat a small table bolted to the floor and holding a small deck and a telecom. On the other side of that was a utilitarian desk chair, empty. Without turning his head Ryan could see observation mirrors reflecting his image back to him on each of the three walls. His and the images of the two trolls who towered behind him, their battle uniforms looking well-used and their automatic rifles pointed directly at his head.

They hadn't bothered to clean him up. Dried blood ran down his neck to a point just above his right nipple. Ryan watched the forward observation mirror, his infrared vision telling him that two others watched him.

Ryan smiled at the two figures and mouthed the words, "Long time no see, Knight."

One figure nodded, then moved out of Ryan's line of sight. Within a few moments, a doorway at Ryan's back opened, and in the mirror's reflection, Ryan watched Damien Knight step through.

He hadn't changed since the party, and the look on his face was bemused, almost whimsical. Knight stepped around Ryan, making sure he was well out of reach, despite Ryan's handicapped position. He circled the deck, and with a sigh, sat in the chair.

Knight leaned back, crossed his legs, and steepled his fingers under his chin. For some reason, his body posture reminded Ryan of Nadja. Then he realized it was that of someone totally in control, completely in his element.

For most of five minutes, he and Knight stared at each other. Finally, Knight slowly shook his head. "I've been trying to figure out just where I went wrong with you, Mercury."

Ryan shrugged. "Maybe it was when you showed no appreciation for good aged cognac."

Knight laughed. "Touche. You're right. I can't stomach the stuff, myself."

"Then I guess you were just kidding about the offer to come to your place and sample some of that vintage Germain Robin."

Knight fixed him with an intense stare. "Yes, I think I know where I went wrong. During my dealings with you before, I formed a picture of an immaculate warrior, someone of incredible ability who had been hand-groomed by an immortal. Unfortunately, the times I had the pleasure of witnessing your crafty side, I made the assumption that Dunkelzahn was your brain, that any spark of ingenuity you possessed was programmed by your master."

He's right and he doesn't even know it.

Ryan was Dunkelzahn's weapon. Always had been. And without the dragon to wield him, to direct his edge, Ryan felt lost. Unsure.

Knight stood. "Mercury, much as I'd like to sit around exchanging pleasantries with you all night, I didn't ask you here for a social call."

Ryan smiled, tight and dangerous. "You didn't ask me here, Knight. You panicked."

Knight returned the smile, and if anything, his grin was even more predatory. "Quite correct. You see, you left the gathering this afternoon under some very explosive misconceptions. I've brought you here to disabuse you of those misconceptions before you do something rash and potentially… destructive."

Ryan kept his face impassive.

Knight sat on the edge of the desk. "I'll admit, you took me for quite a turn when you mentioned Alice and Roxborough."

"I'll bet."

Knight nodded. "Yes, a lot of your information is quite correct, though even that data is enough to get you killed. And I have to remind you, you're getting that information from a deranged vat freak and a ghost in the machine. You see, Alice flatlined and went into a coma many years ago, though both her husband and I did everything in our power to save her."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You're going somewhere with all this, I hope."

Knight leaned forward. "You talked tonight about holding a grudge for decades. Well, you're right. A grudge has been held, but not by me. You've been duped by Alice, but unfortunately, you played your cards so well that I fell right in line with what certain people would like you to believe."

Ryan sneered. "So you're telling me that you had nothing to do with the death of Dunkelzahn?"