him completely insufferable, and had ever since we met, but I'd also never thought him particularly attractive before today. Okay, I was willing to admit that his body was pretty good and that his face wasn't that bad, when it wasn't wearing its usual sneer. His hair was unfortunate, looking like it had been styled with a Weed Eater, but nobody was perfect. But Pritkin definitely wasn't my type. I've never been attracted to blonds, especially homicidal ones who probably have my name on their target list. Yet all of a sudden I was seriously lusting after him.
I abruptly sat up, feeling sick, and barely managed to grab the damp cloth before it fell in my lap. What if Mircea was fiddling around with the geis, trying to force me to finish the ritual? I knew he could do it, since he'd modified it once before to accept Tomas in his place. Maybe he could alter it to accommodate even more partners-a lot more, if today was anything to go on. I covered my eyes with my palms, pain of a different kind lancing through me. The idea that Mircea might not care who completed the rite, just so long as I ended up Pythia for good, was like a cold fist to the chest.
After a few minutes, I hauled myself up from the floor, using the tattoo table for leverage. Surprisingly, my body didn't protest. "Could Mircea have altered the geis?" I asked. I was proud of the fact that I managed to keep my voice steady.
Pritkin had also regained his feet and as an added bonus had put his shirt back on. He glanced at me, then quickly looked away. "Unlikely.”
"Would somebody please tell me what the hell just happened here?" Mac asked.
"Then why am I suddenly lusting after every guy I meet?”
Pritkin was staring intently at the wall behind the fridge, and after I found myself starting to focus on the front of his jeans, I decided to do the same. "The pain was the geis defending you against an unauthorized partner," he told me. "It would not draw you to one.”
I felt a sudden surge of relief, strong enough to make me weak in the knees. I clutched the table with both hands and fought not to grin like an idiot. After a few seconds, I managed to tamp it down. Maybe Mircea hadn't set me up-this time- but I obviously still had a problem. "So what is going on?”
"I… am not sure." Pritkin took in a ragged breath and closed his eyes. After a moment the flush in his cheeks faded a little. "Did anything go wrong during the ritual?”
"What ritual?" Mac was trying to catch up but not doing real well. I'd felt the same way all day.
"The transfer ritual," I clarified, "the one required to become Pythia. I don't know what it's called. Agnes started it but she said that I had to, uh…" I trailed off in deference to Mac's old-fashioned sensibilities.
"But Mircea took care of that," Pritkin said.
"Not exactly." I could understand his confusion. Other than for the play interlude, the last time he'd seen Mircea and me together we'd been nude and sweaty. Well, technically I'd been wrapped in a blanket, but you get the idea. "We were interrupted. Rasputin attacked, remember?”
"Vividly." Pritkin wrinkled his brow as if trying to get his mind around a difficult concept. "You're saying that you are still a virgin?" he asked bluntly. His voice held the same level of incredulity anyone else would use if told that a spaceship had landed on the White House lawn. Like something barely possible but highly unlikely.
I stopped looking at the wall to glare at him. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes!”
He shook his head in disbelief. "I would never have considered that.”
I was getting ready to become seriously annoyed when I found myself admiring the way the damp hair at the base of his neck curled up. Damn, damn, damn! "Do you have a theory or not?”
"The most likely explanation is that the Pythian Rites are trying to complete themselves.”
I stared at him blankly for a moment. He didn't notice, being too busy counting bricks in the wall. "Let me get this straight," I finally said, sounding a little strangled despite my best efforts. "Since Mircea isn't here, the unfinished ritual is starting to draw me to other men to complete itself. But the geis doesn't like that, and it's making its feelings known