He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, giving me a view of tight buttocks and taut shoulders. "You will have to repeat the question. My concentration is suffering."

"If we do this, will I be Pythia?"

"That I do not know, nor does anyone. The power will pass soon, almost certainly either to you or to the lost sybil. All we are attempting is to keep you in the running, so to speak. If the Pythia dies and you are still a virgin, it may result in the power passing to your rival."

"That doesn't sound so bad to me. If what I've been experiencing is only part of her power, I don't think I want the rest."

"Not even to help your father?"

I blinked. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten about that. It said something about the confused state of my head. "You promised to tell me about him, and that's not part of this deal!"

Mircea looked at me from under a curtain of dark silk. "You have no pity, dulceaţă. Nor have you paid me for your last question."

"Tell me about my father and maybe I will."

Mircea rolled off the bed and began to pace, which didn't help my pulse rate any. He stalked, like some big jungle cat, rather than merely walked. "Very well." He turned to me suddenly, his eyes flashing gold. "If you insist, then we will discuss this. I did not want to tell you, but you have forced my hand. Roger is dead, as you were told. Dead, but not gone."

"You mean he's a ghost?" I shook my head. "Not possible. I'd have known. He'd have come to me—I was right there in Tony's house for years. It's not like I'd have been hard to find."

Mircea stopped near the bed, a little too close for comfort, and continued as if I hadn't interrupted. "Roger was an employee of Antonio's, one of his favorite humans, in fact. Which made his betrayal all the more bitter. That was how Antonio viewed his refusal to give you up when ordered to do so. He could not leave Roger alive and save face, but he did not want his death to deprive him of your father's gift. You received your connection to the spirit world from him—he, too, was reportedly able to make ghosts his servants."

"That isn't what I do."

He brushed it aside. "Call it what you will. Suffice it to say that Antonio found it useful from time to time. You were clever to hide it from him, dulceaţă. I asked him if you had that gift as well as the Sight, and he said no."

"Eugenie told me not to tell." Only now did I understand why. Of course, ghosts could be useful, especially in dealing with other families. Since vamps can't detect them, they'd make perfect spies. Hell, he could even have sent them to let him know what the Senate was doing. A pretty big advantage, that. "What happened?"

"Your parents fled when they realized you had inherited their gifts, knowing that Tony would take you. He sent his best operatives to track them down and paid some dark mages to devise a trap for your father while he waited. It was designed to capture his spirit as it left his body after death, and it worked perfectly. When I heard what had been done to Roger, I commanded Antonio to release him, but he demurred. He preferred to keep him confined as a perpetual punishment and a warning to others, even though he had discovered that Roger could not command ghosts now that he was one."

"But he released him on your order, right?" I didn't like where this was going.

"He swore that it was impossible, and invited me to have a mage of my choosing examine the trap. I did so." He looked at me with pity. "I hired the best, Cassie, for I liked your father. But the mage, a member of the Circle itself who owed me a favor, told me that he had never seen one like it, and that all his power was not sufficient to break it. As a result, your father's ghost resides with Antonio still."

My lips felt numb. I wanted to disbelieve him, but it was exactly the sort of thing Tony would do. "There must be a way to break the spell."

"The Silver Circle should have enough power to manage it. My associate intimated as much at the time. Even if it was the Black Circle itself that wrought the trap, the Silver is stronger. But they would not willingly take on such a task. They despise your father, as they do any human working for us, and blame him for seducing your mother away from them. They would not help even were the Consul herself to petition, but if the new Pythia were to ask…"

"They couldn't refuse?"

Mircea sat down on the bed beside me. I resolutely kept my eyes on his. "They could, certainly, but I doubt they would. If the power goes to you, Cassandra, they will swallow their pride and try to woo you. If they thought they could buy your favor with such a task, they would likely fall over themselves to do it."

Suddenly, I was on my back and Mircea was on his hands and knees, looming over me. "And now, dulceaţă, I believe there is a little something you owe me."

I had a lot of other questions, but they temporarily fled, along with my ability to form coherent sentences. Mircea sat me up and stripped off the robe, which he threw against the wall as if it offended him. His hands returned to slide slowly down my arms, from shoulders to wrists. He lay me back carefully and let his eyes roam over me as I had done him. He surprised me by taking his time, and the weight of his gaze was enough to make my nipples contract and my whole body tense.

His hands soon followed the path his eyes had blazed. He started at my ankles, then ran them slowly up my body, stroking and teasing the flesh as he went. I was writhing by the time he was up to my knees, moaning when he paused to massage my lower stomach, and completely breathless when he captured my breasts again. He continued, however, running his fingers over my neck and face, lingering slightly on my lips, then moving up through my hair. I felt like my body was on fire by the time he stopped, and judging by the flush that stained his usual mother-of-pearl complexion, he wasn't completely unmoved, either. He swallowed several times before finding his voice. "If you have a question, Cassie, I suggest you ask it quickly."

I wasn't sure I could think of one, but I really needed something to distract him, or I was going to be an eligible candidate for the Pythia's job very soon. "How did you find me?" He parted my legs and crawled between them. I felt terribly exposed and not at all ready for this. "Mircea!"

"I swear I will answer your question, Cassie," his said, his eyes amber fire, "afterwards."

"No! That wasn't the deal."

He gave a strangled groan and collapsed onto my legs, his hair falling forward to cover my groin. He stayed that way for about a minute, his breathing harsh and unsteady, before raising his head. His face was pink and his eyes glittered darkly, but some of the fever had subsided. His voice was lower than usual, and his accent was more pronounced when he began speaking, fast and with no preamble.

"The Consul suspected what Rasputin was doing before any of us, even Marlowe. The attacks began shortly after the Circle requested MAGIC's help in finding their lost sybil, and the Consul made one of her famous, intuitive leaps. But there seemed little we could do except to aid in the search and hope they would recover her quickly. True sybils are rare, and we thought there was no other of sufficient strength to duplicate Rasputin's actions. But we made certain that those of proven ability were closely watched, in case she should die and the power pass on. I have business interests in Atlanta, Cassie. I have known where you were for some time, and of course, I put your name on the list of those to be watched."

His eyes settled between my legs and I could feel myself blushing. I tried to wiggle out from under his touch, but it only caused him to bend and kiss the inside of my thigh over the pulse point. His lips worked gently and I felt no fangs, but that light brush of his mouth caused the trickle of liquid heat that had been building in me to suddenly become a flood. "Mircea, please…" I wasn't even sure what I was asking for, but he only smiled grimly.

"No, I will answer the question in full." He inhaled deeply. "And then I will pleasure you in full." I writhed under his hands, and he closed his eyes. "Cassie, please don't move. The vibrations are… disturbing, and my concentration is ragged as it is."

"I never agreed to sex if you answered the question! This isn't fair!"

Mircea paused and cocked an eyebrow. "Forgive me, dulceaţă, but precisely what is it you think we are doing now?"

"You know what I mean." I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the pleading my body was doing. "No intercourse."

Mircea ran his tongue along the crease of my knee and up my leg, stopping just short of where I suddenly, desperately wanted him to be. He raised his head slightly to meet my eyes, but his breath still glided over my most intimate places. My body trembled, and his fingers dug more firmly into my thighs. "You want me as badly as I want you, dulceaţă. Why deny us both?"

"You know why. It's not just about pleasure—this is setting myself up for something I'm not sure I can do." As soon as I said it, I realized I'd told the truth. The only reason I wasn't attacking Mircea was the strings that went with him. Having sex meant throwing in the towel on my independence, possibly forever. Either way I looked at it, I lost. The Senate might be a kinder, gentler alternative to the Circle, and Mircea beat the hell out of Pritkin as a jailer, but it would be a jail all the same. But if I wasn't Pythia, there would be a lot less interest in where I was and what I was doing.

"And if you do not accept your calling, how do you plan to persuade the Circle to help with your father?"

I sighed. There, as Shakespeare would have said, was the rub. I didn't want to be Pythia. The office had helped to get my mother killed and promised me only life in a gilded cage—assuming the Circle didn't kill me. Besides, Pritkin was right: I hadn't been trained. I didn't know if I could handle Seeing any more than I already did. I hadn't liked the new powers I'd obtained, and I doubted I'd enjoy the others any better, whatever they were. But, if I refused the position, I wasn't sure I could do anything to help my father. I knew Tony well enough to know how vindictive he could be. He would view my father's imprisonment as serving the double purpose of torturing both him and me, and he'd never voluntarily give him up.