He frowned as I drew back, but he didn’t reopen the bite.

With a nod, he stepped away and I scooted around him. He could cross the room before I could blink, could slam me into the wall again before I could react. I knew that. But distance still made me feel better. And it was a hell of a lot better to not be cornered.

“Now what?” My voice came out steadier than I expected, and I gave myself points. I could have been discussing the weather for all my tone revealed.

His eyes roved over me, but they were calmer now.

“There’s no time to find you a new dress.”

“Er… okay?” I glanced down. The corset strings were a little damp, and there were dried water-stains from the snow on the vinyl, but it wasn’t like I’d ripped it or anything. At least if he was worried about the dress he wasn’t planning on killing me.

Tatius stepped forward. He circled me twice. Then he reached out and pulled a clump of my hair free of the ornate up-do Samantha had labored over. Nodding, he tugged at the plunging neck of my dress, but not like he was pulling it into place, more out of place.

I jumped back. “What are you doing?” I asked, as I attempted to twist the dress back into what felt straight.

He swatted my hands away and rearranged the garment incorrectly again. “If you’re going to look unkempt, you will look like the reason is for something more interesting than wandering around a cemetery with a couple of mages. Now stay still.”

I blinked. A couple of mages? He said it so casually, as if it were no big surprise. I’d found out a couple of weeks ago about Sabin and the existence of mages, but the idea still hadn’t become expected. “You know about the mages? I mean, before you were in my mind, you knew they existed?”

His very old, very heavy gaze cut down to meet my eyes.

Then he shrugged. “Don’t look so shocked. The mages haven’t always been as secretive as they are now.”

“But Nathanial…” Nathanial hadn’t known. I knew he hadn’t. He’d been as shocked as I had, though he’d admittedly handled the revelation better than me.

“Nathanial is powerful, but he is young,” Tatius said, pulling more pins from my hair.

I tried not to let my dismay at his words show in my face.

Nathanial was over four-hundred years old. That was not young—not by any definition I could think of. Exactly how old is Tatius?

The question must have been clear in my expression. “I am ancient,” he said. “And I am master of this city. I am privy to secrets my subjects are not. You’ll do good to remember that secrets are meant to be kept quiet.”

I nodded. The judge had bound a certain amount of silence into my very skin when he’d marked me, so I wasn’t about to go blabbing about what I’d seen recently. If I could have forgotten all about mages and vampires, I would have—life had been simpler when shifters were the only supernaturals I knew about.

That thought touched something deeper.

“Did you know about my… that is, shifters?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“You ask too many questions.” He finished releasing my hair from the elaborate up-do and ran his hands through it.

“That will suffice,” he said, once I looked like I’d been rolling around in a bed.

“I—”

He didn’t give me a chance to protest but wrapped his arm around my waist and dragged me out of the room. “Spirited or not, the only thing I expect your mouth to do tonight is smile. Now, we’ve a date with the Collector.”

Chapter Thirteen

I fidgeted in my spot on the overstuffed chaise, and Tatius’s hand slid down the curve of my body, making all my muscles lock in response—I also stopped fidgeting, which was probably his intention. Heat from his body pressed along my back where we were touching, sharing a chaise in such a way a permanent blush burned across my cheeks.

Concentrating on relaxing in my position—because if I got too stiff, Tatius would slide into my mind and force my body to relax—I tuned back into the conversation. So far the Collector and Tatius had engaged only in small talk, a tense dance of gossip about vampire business around the country.

I’d spent most of my time ignoring them.

“This is all well and good, but surely more brings you to Haven,” Tatius said.

Thank the moon. Maybe this conversation would finally get somewhere and we could get out of here.

The Collector drew herself up in her chair. It was only a small shift of weight, but it marked the end of the casual conversation. “Too true, Puppet Master. But I fear my purpose might have changed since arriving.”

“And what was your purpose, pray tell?”

“I had heard of the strength you’ve gained in recent centuries, and what a prosperous and well-managed city Haven has become.” She tilted her head slightly as if considering something, but the movement was measured, all show. “In light of recent events, I find myself… unimpressed.”

Tatius’s fingers stiffened where they cupped my hipbone, but his voice, when he spoke, betrayed none of the tension pressed against my body.

“I suppose I won’t be asked to join your esteemed council of city masters then, will I?” The amusement lacing his voice was a whisker twitch from disrespectful, but the Collector’s smile only widened—until she flashed enough teeth to rival a shark.

“I suppose you will not.”

A council of cities? If she was assembling a council of city masters, all as strong as Tatius or stronger, that would be a scary group of vampires. The fact that her words indicated Tatius was expendable? Downright terrifying.

I glanced at Nathanial, looking for a sign I was interpreting the situation correctly. With his emotional mask firmly in place, he looked attentive, if aloof, as he watched the proceedings, but his gaze flickered toward me. When he saw me watching him, his gaze snapped away from me.

I sighed. Is he mad I made a deal with Tatius? For the moon’s sake! I’d saved his life. It wasn’t like we’d had a lot of options.

Frowning, I focused forward again. The china doll, Elizabeth, watched me, a small smile creeping across her face, like she’d uncovered a secret. Then she leaned her head down and rested her cheek on the giant’s knees. The Traveler’s hand moved absently to her hair, stroking her loose curls.

“So,” Tatius said, leaning forward enough I could feel the muscles in his chest press hard against my back, “should I plan a goodbye celebration for you later tonight?”

The Collector steepled her hands. “That would be appropriate. I expect to move my retinue beyond your city lines before first light.” She paused and shot a meaningful glance over her shoulder. “But first, I’ve yet to present the entertainment I prepared.”

She lifted a hand, and a small cluster of her people hustled forward. They gathered in front of Tatius and dipped into deep, formal bows. There were seven women and four men, all dressed in elaborate kimonos. Something inside me registered the group as food, which meant they were human, but they tempted me no more than a gazelle tempts a wellfed lioness. Once Tatius acknowledged them, half moved to the side and picked up musical instruments; the men took small drums, one woman cradled a strange, stringed instrument, and another lifted a bamboo flute.

The remaining five women formed a single-file line directly in front of Tatius, one behind the other. As they assembled, a scent that didn’t belong caught my nose, and I stiffened.

Tatius must have felt the change. What? his mental voice demanded as he turned my face to his like he would kiss me.

I wasn’t sure about the whole psychic mind communication, so I mouthed the words ‘not human.’ His gaze flickered over my shoulder to the women a moment before returning to me. Gently, he lifted my chin and pressed a chaste kiss on my mouth. I didn’t move, didn’t pull back—the kiss was a follow-through of Tatius’s ruse. He released me without comment and I turned back to face the ‘entertainment.’

For a moment, I thought all but one of the women had returned to the wall. Then I realized they’d lined up so perfectly that, from my perspective, all disappeared behind the first. The other council members must have had a less illusionistic view.

“What is this you’ve arranged for us?” Tatius asked.

“My most recent acquisition: Akane, and her troupe of performers.” The Collector lifted her hands and clapped once.

“Begin.”

The drums tapped out a slow, two-part beat. On the strongest beat, the woman at the front of the line took a sliding step forward and clicked her fan. She turned, and on the next strong beat took another slow, measured step toward my right. Her fan clicked. No, she wasn’t the only one moving. Two Kimono clad dancers stepped toward my right, two to my left. Their fans clicked. Their slow, deliberate steps took them away from the center line, opening a chasm between the two groups by mere inches at a time.

It wasn’t like any dancing I’d ever seen, but ever so slowly, the movement revealed a fifth woman. Unlike the other dancers, who all wore red kimonos, the final dancer wore a gold-trimmed blue kimono. She didn’t move from her stiff pose until the other dancers had opened a narrow path before her. Then the dancers in red turned and froze in a deep bow to the dancer in blue—Akane, most likely. She used painfully slow steps to cross the path, her constrained movements bringing her within a yard of our chaise. The drums sounded their loudest beat then fell silent as she bowed before Tatius.

The musky, inhuman scent met my nose again, and for a brief moment, her dark eyes met mine, shock clear in her features. She covered the look quickly, but she missed the first step of her dance as the flute and the strange stringed instrument sounded their first delicate notes. The music rose in a lyrical melody and Akane’s movements turned fluid; the slow sway of her body both suggestive and hypnotic.

One of the red dancers moved toward Akane, and without disrupting the serpentine dance, untied Akane’s sash and unwrapped yard after yard of material. The next dancer helped Akane out of the kimono, leaving her in only a gauzy undergarment. A third dancer approached and slid the thin fabric from Akane’s shoulders. Akane’s naked back faced our chaise, and as the garment slipped away, it revealed a thick tattoo running from over her right shoulder, down her back and legs, and ending around her ankles. In the flickering candlelight, Akane’s gyrating movements caused the intricate snakeskin design to mimic life.