initiates so young, and brainwash them throughout childhood? I am sure they would prefer to use a spell to keep them in line, if such a thing were possible. But the Pythia's power might override it, and the controller become the controlled. I cannot imagine Mircea risking that!”
"But why place the geis on me, then, if he never intended to use it?”
“To protect your chance to become Pythia. A brief affair could have ruined everything, for you and for him. The geis seemed the simplest way to ensure that didn't happen. And to afford you added protection at Antonio's. You did not know about this?”
"I didn't even know about the geis until yesterday!" I sat up abruptly, my mind racing at the implications. I could break the geis by sleeping with Tomas. It was so simple that it was ludicrous-if he was telling the truth. But Tomas didn't need to resort to lies to get a woman in his bed, and his explanation made sense. I'd thought it strange all along that Mircea would think he needed magical help to manipulate someone as young and clueless as me, especially when I was already infatuated with him. There were far more subtle ways of exercising control, and he was master of them all.
Of course, even if Tomas was right, there was no way to know whether Mircea's get-out-of-jail-free card would work on a double spell. And even if it did, there was a catch. A big one. If I broke the geis, I'd fulfdl the ritual's requirements and be stuck with the Pythia's position permanently. That would put paid to any hope of passing the power on to someone else, or of working something out with the Circle. Heirs could be unseated, as Myra had found out, but the Pythia held the position for life. If I completed the ritual, the mages would have no choice but to kill me if they wanted their candidate on the throne. And the same was true of Pritkin, if he really did favor Myra.
Unfortunately, things didn't look any better if I kept the geis. It was almost certain that the Senate would find me sooner or later. They had too many resources, including Marlowe's intelligence network, for me to have any illusions about that. And even if Tomas was right and Mircea couldn't use the spell to control me-a big "if," in my opinion-he also couldn't break it. The dúthracht had lived up to its reputation and gone haywire, and there was no telling what would happen if the bond completed itself. It was supposed to be under the control of one of the participants, but what happened if, as seemed to be the case, neither of us was in the driver's seat? I didn't know what a geis in control of itself might do, and I didn't want to find out.
One thing was certain: if we met again, Mircea and I would certainly complete the bond. It was embarrassing to have to admit, but the only reason we hadn't done it already-and in front of about a thousand spectators-was his self-control, not mine. And that would complete the ritual, which would bring me back to square one.
"Damn it!" Both options were unacceptable, but there wasn't a third. There was no way to get rid of the geis and avoid completing the ritual. Or, if there was, I had no way of finding it stuck in a cell in Faerie.
Everywhere I looked, I hit a brick wall. I hated not having options, of having someone or something deciding my life for me. It had been that way as far back as I could remember. Either Tony or the Senate or the goddamned Fey were making me a victim, taking away my right to choose. I'd never had the power to fight back, to forge my own life or just to keep myself and the people I cared about safe. I couldn't even deal with one rogue initiate! And, I realized, if things continued as they were, I never would.
"What is it?" Tomas' hand was delicately stroking the small of my back, trying to soothe, to comfort. It was comforting, I admit, but not soothing. Neither the ritual nor the geis cared if he was hurt, or if I was ambiguous about the idea of having sex in a dank, chilly dungeon with Billy probably listening in. The compulsion to turn around and take Tomas up on the offer he'd been making ever since I