"I got it. He tortures his more expendable mounts to death to get a few jollies, right? But he's not bad, just misunderstood." He snorted. "Hiram, that thing defines evil."

For a long time, Hiram Worchester said nothing. There was only Charm's guttural singing from the next room. But finally Hiram's lips moved, so weakly that Jay did not catch the words.

"What?" he whispered.

Hiram turned his head. "Foul… oh God, Jay, you don't know what it's been like… so many times, I just wished for it to be over… that he'd kill me the next time… but I'm too powerful, you see. I'm an ace. He wants aces… wants the powers… I'll never be free. And you… it'll be the same…"

"No way," Jay said. "Hiram, don't let him take me."

"I can't hurt him! I told you."

"Then hurt me," Jay said. "Kill me, if it comes to that. But don't let him take me." He never thought he'd hear himself beg for death, but his flesh was crawling at the very thought of Ti Malice. It would be like his nightmare, but this time he would never wake, this time it would go on and on forever.

Hiram Worchester stared at him with sudden wonder on his broad face. "Kill you," he murmured. His fingers flexed, closing slowly into a fist, then opening again. "He would be angry, Jay… so very angry, you can't imagine. Perhaps… perhaps then he might… free me."

Jay knew what he meant by "free."

7:00 A.M.

They waited at the airport all night for the first available flight to Atlanta. Jennifer fell asleep around midnight, but Brennan could not. He sat up all night meditating on a playing card, an ace of spades, left him in a will.

When it was time to board the flight, he slipped it into the breast pocket of his denim jacket where it would be close at hand.

When the door opened, Jay caught a brief glimpse of pale, thin sunlight filtering down from above. Blaise stepped into the cellar, stumbling on the last step, almost tripping over the end of his cloak. The boy looked dead on his feet, his face drawn and pale. He'd been ridden to exhaustion, and beyond.

Sascha stepped forward to remove the heavy felt cloak. "We were concerned for you, master," he said as he undid the ties. "We heard sirens… screams in the night…"

Ezili laughed from the doorway. "The night was magic, Sascha," she said, running a tongue across her lower lip. "Hartmann went mad. We watched it on the television. A circus of blood. Then the jokers went mad, too. We wandered in the park and played with them all night long. No one noticed." She shut the cellar door behind her, and darkness resumed its reign.

"This mount is tired," Ti Malice announced in Blaise's hoarse, weary tones. "It is time to try the other. Bring it." Everyone looked at Jay.

Sascha folded the cloak, set it aside, turned his face toward Jay. There might have been pity in his eyes, if he'd had eyes. He nodded at Charm, and the huge joker shambled forward.

"Can't we talk this over?" Jay asked.

Charm ignored him. Hands gasped his legs, shoulders, feet, and jerked him into the air. Charm flung him over a shoulder, carried him across the cellar. The place still smelled like a butcher shop. Flies swarmed around decaying pieces of human flesh. Charm tossed Jay down on the mattress. Ezili bent over him and kissed him lightly, her lips wet and hot. "Soon," she said., "Prepare it for me," Blaise's voice commanded.

Charm grabbed a handful of Jay's shirt and yanked sharply. The fabric tore with a loud ripping sound, until it got tangled in the jacket.

"Its bonds are in the way," Ti Malice noticed. "Untie it. Strip it."

"Master," Sascha cautioned, "he is dangerous when his hands are free."

"I can't even feel my fucking hands," Jay complained. He tried not to think about what he was thinking about. Sascha picked right up on the thought he was trying not to think. "He thinks he'll have a chance once he's untied."

"Is it afraid?" Ti Malice asked.

"Of you, very much. Of being a mount. And there is some other fear, an older fear…" The telepath frowned. "A dream he's had. You remind him of this nightmare, master."

"Free its hands," Ti Malice said. "This young mount has the power to hold it still."

Charm turned him over, slammed him down into the mattress, and pinned him with a boot while hands fumbled behind his back.

Jay's wrists had been bound for so long he couldn't feel any difference when they were free. Charm kicked roughly at one arm, and it fell heavily to the side. His shoulder shrieked with pain. Roll over and get the hand up, he thought, but Charm was pressing down on him. He couldn't move.

Then something else grabbed him, something stronger and harder and more powerful than Charm's twisted body would ever be.

Blaise's mind.

The foot went away. Jay stirred, but it was Ti Malice who moved his arms, through Blaise. When he rolled over, they were right there, kneeling beside him on the mattress.

The boy was still smiling. His master peered over one bare, bruised shoulder. Jay could hear the faint sucking sound, could see the boy's blood pulsing through pale translucent veins in the creature's glistening flesh.

The boy spoke. "Strip him."

Charm peeled the jacket off Jay's back. It was damp with sweat and spatters of blood. The joker ripped away his shirt. Now he was bare-chested, his throat and neck exposed to the demon's kiss.

"He's trembling," Ezili said. "Trembling for the kiss." Jay felt a faint tingling in his hands. He tried to move them, to make a gun, to point. He couldn't move. Blaise's power and his master's will held him perfectly still. Jay's eyes flicked down to his hands. They were pale, bloodless, his wrists bruised and purple. He looked like he was wearing fish-belly gloves, and there were dark red lines in his skin where the wires had cut deep. He tried to flex his fingers, make the feeling come back. Nothing.

"Master," Hiram said.

He stepped out of the corner, looming over the mattress behind them, his shadow almost as huge as Charm's. Ti Malice looked at him with Blaise's eyes, but Jay couldn't even turn his head. He felt Hiram's presence more than he saw it. His hands were full of pins and needles as his circulation returned.

"Master," Hiram repeated. He sounded frightened. "Please. Let this one go."

"Why?" Ti Malice wanted to know.

The tingling in Jay's hands had begun to turn to pain. The pins and needles were replaced by knives and pincers. He gasped in sudden pain, and the noise made him realize he still had control of his voice. Of course, he thought. Like the centipede man. Ti Malice liked to hear them beg.

"He is… a friend," Hiram said. "I've never asked you for anything before. Please."

Ti Malice turned to Sascha. "What will it do if I take this new mount."

The telepath turned his head toward Hiram. "Nothing," he reported after a moment. "He could never hurt you." Ti Malice turned back to Jay as if Hiram Worchester no longer existed. "Down," he said.

Jay lay down on his side so his master would have easy access to his back and his neck. Blaise stretched out beside him on the mattress. He was so close Jay could smell Ezili on him, close enough for their bare chests to touch lightly, close enough for a kiss.

His hands were on fire, the blood rushing through his fingers like white-hot wires. It was an effort not to faint.

Ti Malice pulled its mouth away from the boy's neck with a soft wet sound. The creature began to wriggle up and over Blaise's shoulder, toward Jay. Its own limbs were stunted. It writhed forward like some huge worm, an inch at a time, tiny three-fingered hands grasping feebly at the boy's flesh for purchase. Blood trickled weakly from the ragged hole it had left behind. Jay forced his eyes away from the horror coming toward him and looked into the boy's eyes. Blaise seemed dazed, lost, and Jay remembered what Hiram had said. When he leaves you, it's like dying. "Blaise," he said urgently. "Let me go."