“It was a… misunderstanding. I had been robbed. I merely requested Lord Radu to accompany me to this house to retrieve my property.”

“And is that what he will say before the Senate?”

Every time Louis-Cesare said “Senate,” Cheung flinched slightly. “There is no reason for them to learn of this.”

“Radu may feel otherwise. I do not like to speak ill of my Sire, but he can be somewhat… vindictive.”

“You could talk to him,” Cheung pointed out.

“Why would I do that?”

“We fought for you!”

“Not knowingly,” Louis-Cesare said.

“But the result was the same. You would not have carried the field without us. And therefore the debt is the same. And your family has a reputation for honoring your debts.”

“As does yours.”

Cheung’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“Protection for this house for the next few days, until I can make other arrangements.”

I started to say something, then stopped. There were worse things than having Claire pissed off at me about vampire security. Assuming I could even figure out where she was.

“Agreed. And it is to be made clear to the Blarestri that I had no knowledge of their connection to the stone when I arranged to handle the sale.”

“Okay, but we get Ray,” I countered. “I promised to bring him in.”

Cheung rolled his eyes. “I have no further use for him. I wish I had never heard of him or that accursed stone!” He looked at Louis-Cesare. “We have an agreement, then?”

Louis-Cesare nodded. “I will do what I can with Lord Radu. But it would perhaps be best if you were not here when we have that discussion. Your presence might… inflame him further.”

Cheung didn’t go so far as to say “thank you,” but he nodded. He pulled a sheath off the fallen fey and handed it to a servant, who carefully enclosed the unusual sword. Then Cheung and half his boys slipped silently out the back door.

The rest lingered behind, looking awkward. “Would you… happen to have some tea?” one of them asked me, after a moment.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” Claire had mentioned seeing some. “I’m not sure I know how to make it, though.”

“If you show me to your kitchen, I can manage.”

I pointed. “It’s through there. What’s left of it.” He nodded and the guys filed out, except for Scarface, who continued to watch us from above.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, and sagged against the wall. Damn. That could have gone… well, a whole lot worse.

Louis-Cesare looked at me and smiled. “Lord Cheung is an honorable man.”

Lord Cheung had been in deep shit and just dug himself out, I didn’t say. Because pissing off Scarface wasn’t my idea of a good time. Not when I felt like I might fall over any minute.

And not when I still had a mess to deal with. I pushed myself off the wall.

“Where are your friends?” Louis-Cesare asked me, as if he’d been reading my mind.

“I don’t know.” I looked at the missing stairs. A few planks still clung to the walls here and there, and the top three steps remained in place. But that wouldn’t have helped me much, even if I hadn’t had one hand out of commission. “Maybe upstairs.”

“I will check.” He caught hold of the jagged edge of the floor above and pulled himself up. Scarface waited, arms crossed, eyes slitted, until he stood up, and then the two faced off. I held my breath; it looked like there might be trouble, after all.

Then Scarface grinned. “I never had the chance to watch you fight before.” He pursed his lips. “Not bad.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, having been a little too busy not dying to pay attention to anyone’s technique. Louis-Cesare looked bemused as well, whether at the compliment or in surprise at who was giving it. But he nodded briefly.

Scarface started patting himself down, but his trophy got in the way. So he tied it to what remained of the banister by the hair while he searched around in his pockets. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, and by the look on his face, neither could Louis-Cesare.

Eventually, Scarface located a pen and, after a moment, ripped down a hanging shred of wallpaper. He presented them to Louis-Cesare with a strange look on his face, half-hopeful, half-embarrassed. “You know, in case I don’t catch up with you at the Challenge.”

Oh, my God, I thought blankly.

Louis-Cesare gave me a fierce look, and I bit my lip while he hastily scribbled his name. I doubt it was very legible due to the nature of the paper, but Scarface seemed pleased. He folded it carefully and put it in his back pocket.

“You’re challenging?” I asked, as Scarface reclaimed his trophy.

“Damn right, I’m challenging. You’re looking at a future senator.” And the scary thing was, he wouldn’t be the strangest one I knew.

He eyed the remains of the fey. “You wouldn’t happen to know anybody who could get this shrunk by tonight, would you?”

“I think it takes a while. You have to remove the skull and then boil it…” I trailed off, because Louis-Cesare was looking at me funny.

“Damn.” Scarface cocked his head. “Then again, I could take it like this. Think I’ll intimidate an opponent?”

“You scare the hell out of me,” I told him truthfully.

That seemed to have been the right answer. Scarface laughed, clapped Louis-Cesare on the shoulder and somersaulted off the balcony, his grisly trophy bouncing against his thigh. I waited until he’d passed through the front door and went to retrieve my own.

Ray had ended up wedged in a corner by the back door. He had a muddy boot print across his face and one of his fangs had broken off. But other than that, he seemed okay.

“We got a bond now?” he demanded.

“Getting there.”

I tucked his head under my arm and went hunting for the rest of him. I was trying to haul his body out of a heap of broken furniture when Louis-Cesare came back. “They are not there,” he told me. “The rooms are disturbed, as if they were awakened abruptly, but there is no one anywhere above us.”

My breath came out in a sigh of relief. There was a huge hole in the floor, another in the wall where the pantry had been, and then there were the missing stairs. No way had anyone slept through that. If he’d found anything, it wouldn’t have been good news.

“I also cannot sense them,” he said, listening.

Neither could I, now that I concentrated. There were no shuffling footsteps, no telltale heartbeats, no frightened breathing. Just the ancient fridge dumping some ice cubes, the soft sounds of tea being brewed and the pounding of the rain.

“Perhaps they returned to Faerie,” Louis-Cesare said.

“Maybe.” But that didn’t sound right. Claire had been pretty adamant about not returning without that damned stone, and anyway, she’d have just been stepping right back into the mess she’d fled.

Of course, between subrand and a palace full of assassins, I knew which one I’d choose.

There was probably another explanation, but I couldn’t think of it just then. I was feeling a little dizzy now that the adrenaline had bled away, and the lack of a meal in something like fourteen hours had given me the shakes. And Ray was caught on something, and one-handed I couldn’t seem to—

Louis-Cesare tugged him out and set him on his feet, and accidentally bumped my injured wrist. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “What is it?”

“My wrist.”

“You never told me what was wrong with it,” he said, cradling it in one large hand.

“subrand,” I said simply. “He broke it last night, too.”

Louis-Cesare paused, but he didn’t say anything. And after a moment, I felt warmth slide through the damaged tissue, wrapping the bones in a web of power that, whether it helped the healing process or not, felt damned good. I could still feel the throb in the injury with every heartbeat, but it was distant, manageable. I’d get it bound up in a few minutes, but for right now, this would work.

“Thanks.”

He didn’t reply, just pulled me against him. His hand was in my hair, his heartbeat under my ear, and it was oddly soothing. What was even more so was the fact that he was still in one piece. I wasn’t sure how, but I’d take it.

There were about a hundred things I needed to do right then, but for a moment, I just stood there. My wrist was throbbing, my legs felt weak as water and a massive headache was building behind my right eye. But he was warm and his shirt was soft and he smelled so damn good. I felt my whole body relax.

He didn’t say anything, but his arms tightened. And despite strict orders to the contrary, my eyes slipped closed. All at once, I just wanted to curl up and—

“Well, this is cozy,” Ray said, from under my arm.

Louis-Cesare pulled back with a sigh just as the door banged open and Christine stumbled in. Her pink silk gown was liberally streaked with mud, and the priceless lace was a soggy mess. She was dragging a couple of mud-covered suitcases and muttering something under her breath. She didn’t even appear to notice us, just dropped the suitcases near a body, turned and went out again.

Louis-Cesare looked after her, his face blank. “What is Christine doing here?”

“She said you told her to go with me.”

“She said—” He stopped, his jaw tightening. “I believe she misunderstood.”

“If you aren’t here for her, why are you here?”

“Because of subrand,” he said, like that should in any way be obvious.

“How did you know he was going to attack?”

“He attacked last night, but did not achieve his objective. Why should he not return?”

“You skipped out on your murder trial on the chance he might show up?” I asked incredulously.

He frowned. Apparently, that hadn’t been the response he’d expected. “It appears fortunate that I did.”