Mircea crawled onto the bed and I scooted back until I hit the headboard. He smiled and tugged playfully at the edge of the robe, which I'd wrapped about me protectively. "You are lovely in anything, dulceaţă, but I would prefer to dispense with this garment. Had I known this scenario would occur, I would have arranged something more appropriate." He slid his hands slowly up my calves, kneading as he went higher. "I will make sure to correct that oversight at the first opportunity."

"Mircea! I want an answer!" I drew away from him and glared. After a pause, he sat back on his heels, looking rueful.

"Why did I know it would not be so easy with you?" He sighed. "Dulceaţă, it has to be one of us. You seemed to respond to me best, and I would be honored to be your choice, but if you would prefer one of the others… I would not like it, but under the circumstances, I would agree."

"What are you talking about?" I was getting angry that he kept ignoring me.

"Tomas was not sent merely to guard you, Cassie. Keeping you safe was his primary function, but he was also told to ensure that the Circle's claim could be successfully disputed." Mircea quirked an eyebrow. "I am beginning to understand why he failed."

"I… What are you doing?" Mircea had run a hand through his waterfall of hair, and now he was sliding those beautifully shaped hands down his chest to glide over his nipples. His torso was hairless and perfectly sculpted, with toned muscles and a long waist. He followed the lines of his flat stomach to the low-slung border of his only remaining garment. His fingers lingered there, sliding along that insubstantial barrier teasingly, drawing my eyes to the line of dark hair that started below his navel and disappeared beneath the black silk. It was startling against the pale perfection of his skin and, except for the faint pink of his nipples, gave the only color to his upper body.

"Doing, dulceaţă?" he asked innocently. "I am trying my best to seduce you."

He suddenly reached over and took my hands in his, caressing the backs with his thumbs. "I will make you an offer. I will answer one of your questions for each pleasure you allow yourself: are we agreed?"

"What?" I stared at him. "I can't believe you said that!"

Mircea grinned, and suddenly, the old, teasing version was back. "You give me little choice, Cassie. You will look, and with such longing, but you will not touch. And I want your touch; I want it very much." He moved my hands to his stomach, right below the silk border. When I just sat there, dry mouthed and startled, he sighed. "But my charms do not seem sufficient, so I offer a trade. And as a token of my good faith, I will go first. The Circle can command you as a rogue sybil, but not if you become Pythia. You are beyond their reach then, Cassie; indeed, you will outrank them, so to speak. And Pritkin was not entirely honest. The chosen sybil, the heir to the Pythia's power, must remain chaste during her youth, I suspect to avoid someone gaining undue influence over her. But she cannot progress to Pythia in that state. The ancient sources all agree: at Delphi, a mature, experienced woman was selected after the early years, because it was found that the power shied away from young girls." He grinned at me again and moved my hands lower, so that I could feel the outline of him, growing firm under my touch. "No one is sure why, but the power will not pass in full to a virgin, Cassie."

I stared at him. "You have got to be kidding." Of course, it did explain why everyone except Rafe was dressed like he was on his way to a Playgirl photo shoot.

Mircea didn't answer, just ran those talented hands behind my knees, caressing the skin lightly. Somehow he'd already figured out what that did to me. "We tried to make it easy for you. We sent Tomas, who does not usually have difficulties—how should I put it—persuading women to enjoy his charms? But you rejected him, despite everything he did to obtain your affection." Mircea laughed shortly. "I think you have pricked his pride, dulceaţă. I am not sure that he has ever been turned down before."

I swallowed. "He could have forced me."

Mircea's face lost its amusement. "Yes," he agreed lightly, "and I would have taken his heart, as I made very plain before he left." The hands on my knees slid up to my thighs, and Mircea gripped me strongly. "You are mine, Cassie. I would have gone to you myself if I had known how strong the attraction between us would be. But I must admit that, until today, I did not truly regard you as a young woman. Not to mention that I assumed you would feel uncomfortable with your 'Uncle Mircea' suddenly acquiring such an interest."

"I never called you that." I hadn't thought of him that way, either. Eleven is young, but not too young for a crush, and I'd had it bad. It seemed things hadn't changed, at least not for me. I didn't believe for a second that Mircea felt anything. It was his turn to pretend to want me, so I could continue to be used. It hurt to know for certain that Tomas' attempts at seduction were on the Consul's orders and that Mircea's probably were, but it wasn't a surprise. Where my life was concerned, I'd learned long ago that everyone wanted to use me for something.

"What else did Pritkin lie about?"

Mircea smiled wickedly. "Is that a question, dulceaţă?" I swallowed nervously as his hands began to massage my lower thighs. He noted my confused look with a small sigh. "I will not hurt you, Cassie. I swear you will feel nothing but pleasure from my touch."

"You'll answer the question—in full?"

"Do I not always keep my promises?" I nodded; that much was true. At least so far. He smiled broadly and sat back on his heels. "Very well, how did Pritkin lie?" He thought for a moment. "For the most part, dulceaţă, he did not lie; he simply evaded. He was being honest when he said that if the sybil has gone dark or been killed, the power will pass to someone else. But he was less so when he denied—most unconvincingly—that it will choose you once you become… available."

"Why does the Circle hate the thought of me gaining the power?"

Mircea's rich laugh spread through the room. "They hate you because they fear you. No one can command the Pythia. The Circle is bound to protect her, even to obey her in some things, and you are the first one to potentially hold the power in centuries whom they have not indoctrinated since birth. You would not be their puppet as so many Pythias have been. You would use the power as you saw fit, and that might mean in opposition to their wishes at times." He paused for a second to slide out of his boxers, tossing them aside unself-consciously. I watched them fall to the rug with my heart in my throat and refused to look at him.

"I was told what the dark mage said to you, Cassie. He told you the truth, but, again, only in part. The mythical Cassandra was the only seer who steadfastly refused to be under the control of anyone. She ran from even Apollo himself to avoid having another dictate how her gift should be used. The Circle is afraid that you will be true to your name."

"Are you saying I have a whole army of Pritkins after me?" I was horrified. I'd been surrounded by four master vampires, one of them the reigning dueling champion, and he'd still almost killed me.

"Not necessarily. If you are malleable enough to be used, they will try to do so. Pritkin was truthful when he said that the current Pythia is dying and will not be able to control the gift much longer. They have lost their sybil and urgently need to find her or locate another. But they are caught on the horns of a dilemma: they do not wish the power to pass to you, but who is to say where it would go if they eliminated you? Possibly to one of their other adepts, but equally possibly to another rogue whose existence they missed. If they recover their lost sybil or if you are difficult, they may take the chance and kill you; if not, they will undoubtedly attempt to rule you. Either way, dulceaţă, you are far better off with us."

I thought that was debatable, but if the rest of the Circle was like Pritkin, I definitely didn't want to meet them. "What are you saying? We make love and, bam, I'm the Pythia? Is that what all this has been about?"

Mircea laughed, a joyous, faintly wicked sound. "That is another question, and you have yet to pay for the last one."

I raised my eyes to his face and resolutely kept them there. "What do you want?"

He smiled, and this time it was gentle. "Many things, Cassandra, but I will settle for simply having you look at me for now."

"I am looking at you." I received silence as his only answer. I sighed. Normally I wasn't particularly shy. Raphael often had nude male models around and I'd seen nakedness used as part of punishment too many times to count. But this wasn't some stranger I didn't know; it was Mircea, who'd suddenly gone from being an untouchable fantasy to being an all-too-available reality. I wasn't too shy to look at him, as he probably thought. I was trying hard not to jump him, at least until I got some answers, and gazing at that gorgeous body when I couldn't touch it was damn close to torture.

I licked my lips and accepted the inevitable. My eyes traveled over the fine bones of his face and perfect curve of his lips, down to the hard planes of his shoulders and chest, to his stomach and the faint line of hair that I'd found so intriguing earlier. His body was superb, like a marble statue come to life, one of those slender masterpieces by an ancient Greek genius. His sex was perfectly proportioned to the rest of him, uncircumcised and pale, but flushed with a dark pink tinge. He was already half erect, but, when my gaze lingered, he lengthened, gaining weight and width almost magically. His legs were the best I'd ever seen on a man, and his feet were as finely shaped as his elegant hands. He was exquisite.

I heard him take a ragged breath. "How can you make me feel so with only a look? Touch me, dulceaţă, or allow me to touch you or I will go mad."

Okay, maybe I'd been wrong. Mircea might be doing this at the Consul's bidding, but he wasn't exactly opposed to the idea. It made me feel a little better. "Answer the question," I said, and my voice was steady, although it came out barely louder than a whisper.