Claimed by Shadow Page 0,97

"Don't listen to him, Cassie. If you don't want to talk, don't. He can't force you with me here.”

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, mage. I know your reputation, but much of your magic is useless at present, and my strength is unchanged. Not that I would dream of forcing Cassandra to do anything against her will. I merely think she ought to know who her newfound ally is and what he wants.”

"You stay out of our business," Mac said, his tone ominous.

"Ah, but it isn't yours alone, is it?" Marlowe asked. "She has a right to know with whom she's become involved." He turned to me, looking innocent. "Or do you already know that Pritkin is the Circle's chief assassin?”

Chapter 11

Mac choked on the contents of the flask he'd been sipping from, and then all but confirmed it." "That's neither here nor there!" he gasped as soon as he got his breath back. Marlowe didn't even look at him; his eyes were fixed squarely on me.

"I take it this is news?" he asked.

"Tell me.”

"Cassie, you can't believe anything one of them says. It's all rubbish-" Mac began, but I cut him off.

"I'm too tired to debate this, Mac," I said, and the weariness in my voice was genuine. All I wanted was to find a soft patch of moss, one that wasn't too damp and was free of moving tree parts, and sleep for about twelve hours. I was mentally and physically near exhaustion, and my emotional state wasn't all that great, either. But Marlowe was right-I needed to hear mis. I could decide whether to believe it later.

Marlowe didn't need a second prompt. "We wondered why a demon hunter had been assigned as the Circle's liaison to us. There are plenty of vampire experts available and many of them are far more… diplomatic… than John Pritkin. The timing was also suspicious, with the Circle removing their old liaison and substituting Pritkin only hours before you were brought in. It was as if they knew you were coming and wanted him to be there.”

"They hoped he'd mistake me for a demon and kill me," I said. This was old news, something Mircea had figured out early on. It had almost worked. Pritkin didn't know much about vamps, but he was an expert on demons. And some of my powers, especially possession, had made him very suspicious.

"I heard that theory, but it seemed strange that the Circle would simply assume you would do something to alarm Pritkin enough for him to attack you. Had things gone the way we planned-had you not escaped and Tomas not betrayed us-it would have been a quiet evening." I fidgeted at this evaluation of my first meeting with the Senate, which had been anything but quiet from the start, but didn't interrupt. "I thought there might be more to the story," he continued, "and began a discreet inquiry.”

"You don't know anything," Mac said vehemently.

Marlowe raised an eyebrow, the look on his face one a king might have bestowed on a peasant who tracked mud across his castle floor. "On the contrary, I know a good deal. For instance, I know Pritkin has at least a thousand kills to his credit, and probably more. I know that he's the man the Circle turns to when they want to make absolutely certain someone ends up dead. I know that he is famous for using unorthodox tactics to bring down his prey"-he gave me an arch look-"like having one mark help him to locate another-”

Mac uttered an expletive. "Don't listen to him, Cassie." He paused to stomp on a root that had been trying to curl around my ankle. It slunk off into the forest, but I had no doubt it would be back. I felt a strong yearning for an axe. "You may not know us, but you do know vamps. They lie more than they breathe. John's a good man.”

Marlowe let out a contemptuous laugh. "Tell his victims that!" He glanced at me, as if trying to gauge my reaction to his news, but I'd hit that washed-out sensation that comes from too much exertion in too little time. I couldn't manage to make myself care very much if Pritkin wanted me dead. It wasn't exactly a novel idea; I'd been operating on that assumption all along.

I started searching through Mac's backpack for some dry socks. I'd had a pair in my duffle, but Mac must not have bothered to pack them. It's a